


A fairy's tales

by Shae_la_Hyene



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:40:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29004618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shae_la_Hyene/pseuds/Shae_la_Hyene
Summary: Collections of one shots, dreams, tales, and stories I wrote to help my friends to sleep.
Kudos: 1





	1. Salt

Once upon a time, in a small village on the western coast, where the rocks were black, the air salty and the sky cruel, a girl was born. Her family was poor, she was not their first child. Workers of the salt, as everyone here that was not a fisherman. Slaves of the salt, really, came to learn the girl as she grew up. It penetrated everything, the cloth stiff with it, the land sterile even deep, after too many centuries of capturing the poison of the sea. As she grew up, she knew the destiny that would be hers. Everyday she helped the family, her mother, and stayed silent every evening not to upset her father, coming home from a hard labour that was eating his body a little more with each passing season. Her destiny would be simple. She would work, had as her father, as soon as her feeble arms would be strong enough to hold a rake. After that, she'd accept the first marriage proposal that would be given to her, as she wasn't pretty. Probably the son of their neighbors, he was always nice to her. He wasn't handsome, they wouldn't be rich. She'd stay poor, all her life. And if the white poison hadn't made her as sterile as the land, she's carry his children, raise them, and work harder every day because of that. Most girls around her were resigned to that fate. She should have been, by then. But she never had. Each morning, she woke up before everyone else, leaving her family to sleep, put on her wooden shoes, and go to stand on the black rocks over the sea. Here, as the cruel wind was wiping her face, and the terrible salt was drying her eyes, she stood and dared the ocean to take her away. She dared fate to test her, to let her face the challenge of heroes, to see if she had what it took to win impossible battles. Every morning, as the rising sun warmed her shoulders and made the waves liquid gold, she screamed at the wind to raise her above ground. As the years passed, her arms grew strong enough, and each day, all day, she slaved away in the salt, letting it penetrate her heart, but raised walls around her soul. She wouldn't let the poison win. Still, each morning, right before the sun rose, waking up men, and women, and children one after the other, she went to stand on the black rocks, to silently scream to the clouds. It was the only time she had to herself, and her mother kept shaking her head, not understanding why she'd waste it just standing there. Summer or winter, sun or snow, health or sickness, she went there every day without fault. And each day, the sky, the wind, and even the ocean, seemed to ignore her.  
When the marriage proposal came, her kind neighbor doing what he was supposed to do, she refused. Without giving an explanation, without having anyone else to give her heart to. She just refused. Her father was furious, and almost beat her that night. Her mother cried. Wasting away the kindness of the boy, forcing them to keep feeding and housing her, as she was already in age to be married, and even maybe to have carried a child, was selfish, foolish. They hated her. Still, she stood there, near the too weak fire, her arms stubbornly crossed on her chest, and didn't give a reason. If they had qualms, she said, they would have to carry them to the wind, for it was it that ignored her calls. Weeks passed, months, even. Maybe years. Three times, the boy asked her to marry him again. She refused each time, not telling her parents she had missed the opportunities again. They would be furious. They wouldn't understand. She wasn't sure she understood herself. Still, rage and bitterness filled her heart, stronger than fear. She wouldn't let herself be stuck here forever. She wouldn't give up the only choice she had, just to go marry and make children that would chain her to the sterile land under her feet. One morning, her whole family was gathered around the fire. A too wild tempest had stormed all night long, and no one had been able to sleep. Her little brother looked terrified. He asked their father if the wind would take down the house. The father groaned and told him he didn't build that house in stone for nothing. After that, her brother asked if the rain would make the sea swell and submerge their land, and drown them. Their mother snorted and said it would submerge the neighbors' house before it could ever reach them. Those words did not make him look any less scared, and soon no one talked anymore. When she raised, about to go out to go stand on her rocks and cry her plea to the sky, her mother shook her head, called her a fool. She told her it was stupid to go there, it would only get her killed. Still, she didn't stop her, and neither did her father. She was only a burden for them, and they didn't care enough anymore to fight for her survival. She had had the occasion to make the right choice and go find security elsewhere, the rest wasn't up to them. The wind was gushing around her, the rain wiping her back. The sun wouldn't be anywhere seen. As she walked slowly against the elements to face the ocean, she watched the sky, its clouds angrier than ever. At her, maybe. When she reached her place, she stood still, her back very straight despite the years of labour that folded her in half, and let herself cry a little. Her tears were full of salt, but she didn't even notice anymore. The white poison had become her whole world, and no tale of heroes would erase its presence from her existence anymore. She cried out her frustration, and the pain of a slave's life. She cried out the hope that was punishing her for the years she forced it alive. She cried out her anger at fate, and the fear of never have the wind take her away. She stood there, braving the tempest and the elements, she didn't even know for how long. Hours, maybe. But as, extenuated, she turned to walk back to her pitiful home, her wooden shoe slipped on the too wet black rocks, and a gush of wind wiped her away, to fall into the black waters of the sea. She didn't even fight. There was nothing to fight for in her miserable life. So she opened her mouth, letting the water fill her lungs, knowing it would be quicker this way. The wild waves crashing on the rocks around her were pushing her in every direction at once, there was no longer up or down, only the dark water, and the salt. Letting herself die, she let peace fill her soul. But as she opened, salt came in too. Like a sudden rush of rage, she felt it fill her very core, finally claiming her whole, and turning everything she was into its poison. In a second, she knew she died. And yet she was still thinking, she was still attached to her body, she was still alive. Like a metamorphosis, salt twisted and torn her body to pieces, rearranging it to its will, until it wasn't her body anymore, but the true slave of the white poison. Salt was everywhere, in her, around her, it was her, she was it.  
Breathing in, she swallowed more of the sea around her, and felt alive again. But she wasn't human anymore. Salt had claimed her, but as she let him, it broke down every chain that linked her to the land, and to her past life. She didn't need air anymore, and was free of the wind. She didn't need sun anymore, and was free of the sky. She didn't need food anymore, and was free of the land. She only needed salt, but the salt let her free to roam the sea as she wished. “Write your own adventure,” it whispered to her, “because you are the hero now.”


	2. Sun

After billion of years, of loneliness, the Sun starts to see life develop around him.  
He wondered what it could be, all of those tiny moving shadows. Except the big rocks around him, nothing has ever moved.  
And suddenly, littles objects start moving on one of them.  
He've seen them grow up, changing size, changing colors, and now there are so many !  
So many differences. From the smallest to the biggest. From the stone alike fish to the colorful butterfly. But the more noisy were the humans.  
The sun was not sure he likes humans. They were noisy, they were going against everything the others species were doing  
It just doesn't feel right.  
So one day, he decide to go tell them.  
Letting a part of him get loose, he made it turn into a gigantic beast, with flakes of gold, with amber eyes, and kept his fire inside.  
He deploys his wings and flies to earth, decided to punish the men ! Burn them for being so stupid !  
The closer he gets, the more he can see the pain humans can cause. All the ugliness it creates. The more he felt angry against it.  
But the closer he gets, the clearer a fact has been made : earth needed the humans. This was why nature has created them this way. To destroy, and to rebuild from the ashes.  
He, more than anything, understood the importance of fire, and that burning is a good thing.  
He could see the fire lighting up beauty, and from the ashes raising strength.  
When he gets close enough, he starts hearing the music. This filthy humans were singing. And that was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard, after his billions of silent years.  
So he didn't landed destroying and burning everything in his way. At contrary, he changes his form again, turning into an human. A women, with golden hair and golden eyes. She landed walking gently on this earth.  
She was starting to think that maybe, maybe, she didn't have all the informations to judge the earth inhabitants. Maybe she needed to meet and learn to know men.  
So she does. Walking in a crowd, she could feel all of their gazes on her.  
She listened to them and learned how to talk.  
The ones she tried to talk to ran away, scared.  
But in the crowd, suddenly, she saw a women with blue eyes. Her hair were like an orange blaze, and her skin like a battlefield.  
She couldn't stop looking at this blue eyes, they've captured her mind.  
Slowly, she walked to her, and the orange-haired human walked toward her too.  
Blue eyes took her hands in hers and said "I know you. I can see your scales, and I can see your fire.  
Whatever you are here for, I'll help you. In every fight I'll be by your side. And if someday you need me to remind you why you are fighting for, I'll be here, telling you stories.  
Stories of Kings and fools. Stories of storms and of quiet lakes. Stories about beauty and ugliness. I'll be here, forever, by your side. I'll follow you in the dark because you'll be my light. And if you decide to destroy all of us, I'll hold your hand and die with a smile on my face."  
The Sun didn't know how to respond. A not so long time ago, she was ready to burn down all human kind. So she asked "tell me why I should burn all of you, and why I shouldn't"  
The crowd around them disappeared, as Blue eyes smiled. And when she starts talking, the rest of the universe disappeared too.  
She told her about wars. About murders, rapes and abuses. She told us that nobody is never really free. That all of this horror is in their human nature. She told her about adults hurting children. She told her about rich and poor, and how this difference made injustice dominant.  
She told her about the many ways humans hurt other humans. She told her about how they kill, everyday, many, many other lives. Because of fear, because of ignorance, but mostly for convenience, the others lives being in their way.  
She said that most of the murders comited everyday was just that nobody had bothered to protect the weaker.  
But she told her about the music. She told her about the flowers and the beauty of the sky. She told her how this inspires humans, sometimes, to make great things Good things.  
She told her that some fights are for peace and for life.  
That humans are not just death and anger and greed. That they are also kindness and justice and altruism  
That the good is here, against the bad. That it needs so much more of one to defeat the other, but that she believes in it.  
And when she stopped talking, she tighten her grip. "Will you help me ?"  
And the Sun decided that this humanity, this fights, were something she wanted to be part of. She nodded at the woman.  
Since then, with the hope of a human, and the strength of a golden dragon, they fight together. To end wars. To remind everyone the beauty of music. To stop the abuses, to stop stupidity from hurting. To take care of the weaker, even when nobody else care. Since then, they haven't stop holding each other's hand.


	3. The one that would be King

An african tribe, a few centuries back. I arrived a few days prior. I’m not the kind of man they respect. I’m not tall, nor large, nor muscular. I’m slender and small. And I don’t care if they don’t respect that. Because I’m not looking for their approbation to exist.   
There’s something they respect, tho. My mind. Because I came for the future, and have the potential to teach them a lot. I bring some knowledge, some technically advanced thinking, and the ability to think within their limits. They respect what I can offer them. Humans are not THAT stupid usually.  
Someone respect that, like really. And admire it, maybe. It’s the old King. More and more, he asks for my advices, secretly so that the tribe thinks I’m manipulating him. Together, we make a better king. He treats me more and more like a son, he who never had one. I like him. I like the Queen, too, and respect her. She’s an amazing woman.   
The tribe is on the bridge of war, with a blood thirsty tribe. The king is scared. He’s getting old, and physically weak. He, as everyone else, worship strength and vigor as fundamental for a man. Even more for a king. He tells me about it a lot. He don’t think he can be enough. Enough of a man, enough of a king, to lead his people through that war. But he knows that abdicate would create a civil war for power, and the tribe can’t afford that instability now.   
With my counsel, he succeed to push the war away, week by week.   
In secret of me, he digs up an old law, an old tradition. One that wasn’t really used, except extreme situations. One that never until then applied to royalty. When a man is not anymore able to be a good husband to a woman, she is allowed to “divorce” him. Which doesn’t really cut every link between them, but allow for another husband. The queen agreed to do it, she knew they needed a solution. I agreed too, it was a good idea, to find an heir where there was no son. And the King could bear that shame. He would do it, for his people.   
I didn’t realize until the ceremony that I was going to be that new husband.   
It caught me off guard, but it was too late to back up. I was going to be king.   
That sounded super scary. And most of the tribe frown upon, even unable to undo it. I wanted to think that I had in my brain to be a good king, but I’ve always been afraid of being responsible for people’s well-being.   
For the first months, nothing really scary. I was more the Queen’s husband than the king, which was still the title of the old king. I was okay with that. Less pressure. I was mostly there to care about the queen. And still counseling the king, more officially, tho. I don’t know if we had sex, don’t know if the baby was mine, or his. If that was reality, they were probably the only two aware that I had in reality, a female body. The fact is, she was pregnant. And old. She needed someone to take care of her. I did. We shared a bed, we shared all of our days. It was nice, she was a great woman.  
To push further the threat of war, I had the idea of a festival, with sports competitions, to make some kind of peace offering with the other tribe, which was sending competitors too. It was a good idea, I swear !   
So I was climbing a GIGANTIC scaffolding entirely made of branches. Like how can this stand 30 meters high ??? With the old king. He was out of breath when we reached the top level, among a lot of other people, but that was were royalty was supposed to be. I smile when he installed by my side on the balustrade, and gave him one of the candies I brought with me when I arrived, months ago, and take another one myself. He smiled too, probably surprised by a genuine gesture of affection. “It’s good” “yeah, I know. They’re my favorites”. He nearly screamed at me when I put my feet on the branches to see the ground below. Was so worried about me… I laughed at his frown, and he walked away, pissed off. I called him back “Papa !”. He walked on me, frowning more. “I’m not your father !” “Of course you are.” I said waving his remark away. Then I looked behind the barricade, to the ground where we could see the Queen walk alone, her big belly preventing her from even thinking about getting up to see the festival with us. “I don’t like leaving her alone”, I said. “She’s getting weaker everyday, she need someone to support her”. I turned my head to him, and saw a similar sad look on his face.   
We got back to the fence, waiting for the festivities to start, when a messenger come, out of breath, from the ground below to deliver this : “the queen is dying”. Terrified, we both ran down the stairs, not wanting to get there too late.   
When we arrived, we throw ourself on our knees, by her side. It was a campaign festival, there was nowhere to put her in the best conditions, she was just on a blanket, on the grass. I knew that, in there, in this period, she was gonna die. Her hand was in mine, and his hand on her forehead. Suddenly, I had a very urgent question, so I asked him “Will we still both be kings if she dies ?” He looked at me in terror “I don’t know.” The woman by her side was worried of something else : saving the baby.   
This is when we hear the horns. Those of an army marching on us. War was at our doors.   
He looked at me with even more terror, waiting for me to make a decision.  
After all, I was the king.  
Believe me, guys, there’s a fear you never truly understand until you experience it. When big shit is happening, like out of control, impossible, and looking to the one you think is the authority, he looks back at you, fear in his eyes, as if you were the authority for him. I think that it’s that fear that woke me up.  
Then I looked at the window, it was night again. I only saw the sun when it was raising this morning. And no more. My sleep schedule is a fucking wreak.  
I get up to feed the cats, wondering about my daddy issues and really considering this genderqueer situation.   
Great. Another day. Well, another night.


	4. Wish for snow

I dreamt again, this morning. Just before a fucking asshole wake me up to sell me frozen food !  
I was a man. A young man. Which is kinda unusual and make me think more seriously about my whole transgender mess.  
I was a young man, very, very interested in a beautiful blond girl. Who, from nowhere, convinced me to go to Iran with her the next day. And I agreed.   
It was wonderful. Like someone so spontaneous ! I was completely in love.   
At the airport, we had two different lines to register, and we promised to see on the other side. But a man came to me and I think he wanted to arrest me. I have no idea why. But he prevents me from leaving the country. I was freaked out, hope so much she had waited for me.   
I was scared. What would happen to her, alone ? I promised to keep her safe. I couldn’t anymore.   
But the man who prevented me from leaving was nice enough to understand, and we looked for her everywhere together.   
And she had waited for me. Missing the plane. Even if we only knew each others for a few days, she waited for me.   
After that we had to leave the airport, to go to another city, but we didn’t have any car. It was a 90 kilometers trip and the land were frozen, covered in ice and snow.   
It was beautiful, we were walking slow, on the edge of the road. We didn’t felt the cold, I never really do.   
The man was walking 20 meters ahead, and we were just together. Walking in the ice covered grass. I had a arm around her waist and her around mine. I was taller than her, so it was not very comfy. She told me, I said it was the same for me. But we didn’t split. It was too nice.  
At a moment, the man stopped to talk to us. He said it was a long trip.  
Blond girl said “it’s 87 left”. She was probably a number freak. Who counts paces to know how long they’ve been walking ?? I loved her more.  
The man said it was too long to do it by foot, so he’ll try to catch a car or a truck.   
We didn’t really listen, we continue walking. It was nice, we didn’t want it to end.   
But then this frigging asshole ringed at my door !  
Why do I always have to be woke up from nice dreams ?  
I wish it snows.


	5. Notre-Dame

I had a dream last night. I haven’t dreamed in weeks, probably months. Maybe it was because I almost drank to death yesterday.  
Most of the time I just have nightmares. But this night was different. Nothing feels wrong. I don’t know if it feels good, but at least it doesn’t feel bad.   
I was home. My real home, the one I don’t really own. Notre-Dame de Paris. And for the first time, ever, I was able to see the inside of it. Like, not just the big prayer space. No, I could see the inside. All of the small rooms and corridors where people have really used. Where people lived in. And with my family, I have spent the night here, sleeping in fortune bed, because some of the men living here took care of us.  
It was Notre-Dame, but not exactly her. More grungy, like an abandoned castle. Like no one has entered here for centuries. Dirty, and losing her features. I loved her this way. Feels more like home.   
The next day, we all new it would be the last. At seven pm, the whole world would be destroyed, as predicted. Nothing would change that. So we just calm down and decided who we wanted to be, and what we wanted to do, right before our death.   
My sisters go away. Then my parents, together. To make something, but they didn’t tell me what. They didn’t ask me what I’ll do either. We just smile at each other, and separate.   
Then I put on a grey dress, and my ballet shoes. I stood there, in the middle of the cathedral. Seven was soon. I wanted to be dancing while death catches me.   
I stand on my toes, not feeling the pain I was expecting. And suddenly, I could dance. My body starts turning on itself, as I require. Not protesting, not preventing me from spinning. My weight balanced on one foot then the other, painlessly. I could see the grey stone around me. I felt so good.   
My arms in a circle around me, I tried the impossible : to just turn on only one foot, the other leg gracefully whipping the air. And it worked. And it was so blissful.  
When the bells starts ringing I closed my eyes, just feeling it. I didn’t want to know the end was near, I just wanted to dance. Grey fabric lifting around my waist.   
The bells continued to ring. And the death didn’t came. Not for me, not for anyone. Hours have passed, and I was still spinning, eyes closed.  
At a moment, my parents shows up. It was the signal : everything was over.  
The end of the world has been a lie. Or a mistake. And it was time to go. Go back to real life. The real life were I don’t dance, not in front of my family.  
The real world where, in fact, I can’t dance.   
But I’ve touched the infinite.


End file.
